


All the Stars on Earth

by a_little_chai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Roommates, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Winchester's Freckles, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, First Aid, Fluff, Hemophobia, Homophobic John Winchester, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Soup on a hot summer’s day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 12:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_little_chai/pseuds/a_little_chai
Summary: How the hell did making some soup come to them, two friends, having their first kiss on the bathroom floor?Aka: The one in which Dean gets past what he’s been told all his life, and together, him and Cas discover what love really means.





	All the Stars on Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all! Thanks for reading this. All warnings are posted in end notes, as always. Hope you enjoy!

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a slightly-flushed Cas. It was hot for early May in Kansas. He himself was down to only a layer and still sweating like crazy, stains turning his grey undershirt darker in the small of his back. He'd opened all the windows in the house, then turned the AC on despite Bobby’s insistence to never do those things at the same time. But it was useless, and hours later it was hardly any cooler inside than out.

And the heat didn’t help _other_ matters. Such as giving his friend an excuse to wear short sleeves. Which meant Cas looked even.... better than usual. 

He was absolutely screwed. 

Although, seemed he was always screwed when it came to Cas. His friend and roommate of a few weeks since senior year started. Seemed Cas had just transferred from some Uni down in Illinois, and was planning to sleep in his car in a Walmart parking lot. Family issues meant little money, on top of student loans, and Dean just couldn't let him do that when he had his uncle's whole house to himself for the school year while he was off in Sioux Falls opening an auto shop.

What he had not been planning on was this _thing_ he has for Cas. Not a crush, but...

I mean, everyone can notice the guy isn’t exactly ugly. Blue eyes like ice, a constant nine-o’clock shadow gracing his jawline. Almost ethereal. All that’s missing is a halo and a harp. 

He tried to pay attention to the thing he actually was supposed to, aka washing the carrots that are going to be cut and go into the stew they were making. And, yes, they were making soup during a heatwave. But it was Cas’ choice, so he wasn’t going to complain. At least not out loud. Inside, though, he was not looking forward to eating that in the ninety degree kitchen. 

“What should I prepare next?” Cas asked, looking at the counter and the various whole and cut vegetables, beef, and utensils that covered it with a look of fear. Especially the meat, just some ground chuck he picked up. Seemed that food poisoning he’d given to his family was really bad. It'd been hard enough for Dean to listen to that story; must've been hell to actually go through. It was almost enough for him to consider eating rabbit food. Almost. 

He placed the, now washed, bundle of carrots onto a cutting board, and put it in front of Cas. “Peel it, then cut it into cubes.”

Dean turned back to the sink, focusing on scrubbing the dirt off some potatoes. The front of his shirt was getting soaked in water from the edge of the sink, and his arm was starting to ache. It was a lot of potatoes, probably way more than they needed. 

A few minutes, and a bag and a half of golden potatoes later, he heard a little gasp and clatter from behind him.

“Dean?” Cas whispered, looking down at his hand. He followed the glance, until he saw the red that was coating his friend’s hand. The knife was laying on the floor.

He watched in near slow-motion as Cas’ knees buckled. Reaching out, he managed to wrap an arm around his waist, breaking his fall a bit.

There wasn’t that much blood, barely a scratch, but Cas was shaking and pale, as though it something much more.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, man. It’s just a little cut, we’ll get you fixed up in no time.” He tried to keep his own worry out of his voice, not from the wound but Cas’ reaction. The man’s breathing was uneven, as though he’d just worked out. And he was still staring at the rouge line. 

“Cas, listen to me.” He wrapped his fingers around Cas’ knuckles, blocking the liquid from his sight. He couldn’t help sharply inhaling when he felt how much Cas’ hands were shaking. Fine tremors. “You’re safe. You just didn’t handle the knife right, happens to everyone when they’re starting out. It’s fine. _You’re_ fine.”

He took his other hand and placed it gently on Cas’ cheek, turning it until he faced him. “I’m right here.” He whispered, stroking his thumb up and down his cheekbone. “I’m right here.”

They sat there for a while, both with legs folded under them, Dean simply offering comforting touches. No words, nothing but a soothing silence. Soon, Cas seemed to sort himself out, blinking fast a few times. Dean could see the thin sheen gleaming on his cheek in the afternoon sunlight. He didn’t mention it. 

“I...” He glanced down at where Dean’s hand was still covering his own. “I’m-“

“Don’t apologize.” Dean bit back all the questions that were floating around in his head. “Do you want me to call someone? Gabriel?”

“No.” Cas shook his head as though to punctuate his point. “No, I’m fine now.”

As much as he wanted to say ‘the fuck you are’, Dean bit his tongue. Although it wasn’t easy. “Ok, why don’t we clean this up a bit?”

He helped Cas up, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder. Now that the immediate danger and confusion and panic was gone, he realized just how close they were. How intimate what had just happened was. And that shouldn’t cause the twisting mass of happiness and want that was in his chest. It really shouldn’t.

Grabbing the box of band-aids, he opened one and put it over the cut. It was hardly an inch long, barely enough to even warrant a bandage. But he didn’t want Cas to have a repeat of whatever had just happened, and covering the blood helped. Although some of it now coated his hand, too. 

“I feel like we do this a lot.” He said, gesturing around him at his bathroom. They’d had a few incidents that required some first aid, including one involving a frat party and way too many beers. Cas just gave an imperceptible nod, staring at the far tiled wall as though it held some prophetic revelation he had to puzzle out. 

Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. Cas flinched, before looking at him. Gazed deeply into his eyes, pupils darting back and forth as though he was searching for something. Their breaths were the only sounds in the room.

“... Cas?” Murmured softly, barely a sound. His own eyes flicked downwards to those lips, pale and supple. There was something behind Cas' heavy gaze, some meaning behind it that he didn't understand. But when he glanced hack up, those blue irises were no longer focused on his own, but something below. His cheeks. Specifically, his freckles, he realized after a second.

Cas lifted a finger, gently resting it on his cheekbone. It drifted slowly across, over the bridge of his nose. Trailing it gently down until it rested on his lips, as though trying to shush him. But it was a gentle warmth, simply lying there. Cas' mouth was moving, although whatever words he was saying was too soft to discern. Merely a droning background to the otherwise pure silence. 

"Cas?" He asked again, still soft. There was something idyllic, about this moment, that he didn't want to disturb. His friend's face was still pale, his hands were trembling on his skin. But there was a calmness in sapphire eyes that he hadn't seen before. Happiness, yeah, all the time. Stress or worry, more than he'd like. But actual calm? Peacefulness? That was new. "What're you saying?"

"I'm counting." He said quietly, just at the edge of Dean's hearing.

"Counting what?"

"Your freckles." The hand hesitated, then pulled away. Cas' pupils focused back on his. "There's so many, I kept losing track. It's like trying to count the stars in the sky."

Blood flowed steadily into Dean's cheeks, but he ignored it. Simply grasped Cas' hand from where he'd placed it in his lap, trying to calm those ever-shaking fingers. "Why?"

Their eyes were still locked, staring deep into the depths of the other. "It's calming. Colors, like the greens of your eyes. Trying to decide whether it's emerald or chartreuse or jade or olive. Counting is the same way. Gives me something to focus on." He glanced down at his bandaged hand, before chuckling a little. "I don't do well with blood, especially my own."

"Yeah, I got that." He, slowly, already mourning the loss, pulled his hands away from Cas'. Their fingers stayed entwined for a moment, both of them hesitant to lose the heat of the other. But then they were apart. "You scared the shit out of me."

They were still close, foreheads nearly touching. Sitting on the cold bathroom floor, trying to ignore the chill that seeped from the tiles. Dean’s back rested against the tub, cool compared to his sweat-soaked shirt. Everything, their breaths, their movements, seemed amplified, to the point where they knew every action the other one took. That constant burn Dean felt in his heart, the one that made his hands shake and butterflies do freakin' air shows in his stomach, felt stoked into a sudden flame. Cas was so close. So. Fucking. Close.

Something stopped him, though, from making the first move. From leaning in and kissing that mouth as hard as he could. Cas... Cas was his friend, his probably-straight friend. And he was hurting and vulnerable and there was so many reasons for why he just couldn't. They'd only known each other for a few weeks. There was no indication Cas felt anything for him-

But then lips were being pressed against his, gentle and chaste, not forceful or anything. Simply touching his own. A hand reaching behind his neck and pulling him, gently, always gently, more guiding him than anything, into the kiss. He reached his own hand around, bunching up the fabric of Cas' shirt. His eyes, closed at first but soon opened, saw blue looking straight at him. Pupils dilated, a thin oval of striking cerulean staring back.

The mouth moved, no longer pressed directly against his own, but trailing across his jaw. No teeth, no tongue, just those lips brushing soft across his skin. And there was stubble scraping, from where Cas probably hadn't shaved this morning, like he always does, and-

Stubble. Cas had stubble. Cas, the guy he became friends with. A _guy_. He was kissing a dude. He was kissing a fucking dude on the floor of his own damn bathroom. Words flowed through his head. Some directed at him, from John’s foaming mouth. Some just passing comments. 'Two men holding hands: it's just not natural'. 'Two women marrying: that's not what God intended.' People, those that he knew, those that he cared about, those that he would prefer if they died. All of their thoughts running through his head.

And John. Always John, guiding his every movement. Making sure to always be seen as a womanizer, if that will hide himself. Never show weakness. Never. Not to Sam or Bobby or Ellen or Jo. Don’t let that part of himself show to anyone, or he will pay for it in blood, sweat, and a Thames full of tears. 

He pulled away, moving his head back against Cas' light hold. But he didn't get up, didn't run out of the bathroom and to the ends of the earth because _he just kissed a dude_. Simply kept his forehead pressed against Cas', eyes closed and trying to sort his thoughts out from so many other’s going through in his mind. Each one vying for attention, and each one so very different in motivation. It made his head spin. 

"Dean?" Cas asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. He didn't respond, too focused on what was going on inside his head. Voices screaming at him things he'd heard over and over again, repeated in low mutters or loud shouts. Headlines in the news or pieces of gossip thrown across high schools. Toxicity and negativity and-

Cas pulled away, and he finally looked at him. Took in the horror that was forefront in those blue eyes. The hurried moving of those lips, which he now knew were as soft as he thought. Of course they were. “Dean, I am so, so sorry. I just thought.... I am really so very-"

There was also shame, in his expression. His best friend, his _crush_ , was apologizing. For kissing him. While there had been that same shame, there had also been pride. Not always through rainbow flags, but also things shared through text messages. Bracelets with hidden meanings and words that didn't always mean what they said. There was so much out there that was good, maybe enough that it overcame the 'abominations' and 'unnaturals'.

There was his father, yes, but there was also Cas. Cas who keeps a garden full of flowers for bees. Cas who loves all animals. Cas who can't figure out an expression for shit. Cas who gave him that stupid flower, which he'd planted in that dumb water bottle. Cas, who was sitting across from him with pain and regret and so, so many other things swirling around in those brilliant azure eyes.

Cas, who he loves.

So the voices didn't scream at him as he grabbed the back of his neck. Didn't force shame and self-hatred into his heart as he pulled them back into that kiss. This time, he had control. And what he felt was love and joy and nothing could ever change that, nothing.

The spots where they were touching felt like lightning. Their legs, knees barely brushing. Lips slotted together. Hands pulling each other closer, fingers curling into fabric and hair, ignoring the dampness. He gasped into Cas' mouth, barely able to catch his breath under the onslaught of emotions and feelings he was suddenly faced with, more like buried under. It was only then they pulled away, both chests heaving and lips tingling. A faint taste of chapstick rested on Dean’s tongue, peppermint. 

And then they could only sit there, staring. Mapping out the other's body and curves and imperfections. Freckles and bitten nails and pieces of hair that just won't stay down no matter what product they use, even their little brother's ridiculous gel. Cas moved himself along the floor until he was touching Dean, nearly every inch slotted together, and reached a hand out. Even after everything, they were still trembling. It touched just under his collarbone, warm. 

"One, two, three...."

•*•*•*•

They spent hours in that bathroom, Dean struggling to sit still as Cas counted steadily. It went on until there was no longer sunlight pouring from the window, and Cas' hands weren't shaking. But even after they got up and made their way back to the kitchen, their hands stayed intertwined.

They continued to make the soup, even though it was long past when dinner time was. They didn't talk about what had happened, didn't make a big deal about it. Dean simply grabbed another knife, and showed Cas how to properly cut carrots. They were pressed together, Dean's fingers over Cas' to show him how to grip the knife. Gently moving them up and down to slice through. Slotted together over the wooden handle. 

By the time the soup was actually done, it was just past midnight. They spooned it into Dean's shallow bowls, plastic ones that were super cheap, and walked over to the couch. Put on another episode of Dr. Sexy, and cuddled into each other. Arms wrapped around and legs hooked together.

He could feel every breath that Cas took, every beat of his heart. Slowly, his eyelids dropped, and he leaned farther into him, until he was lying on the couch with Dean's back against his chest. His head tucked deep into the other man's neck.

They stayed like that until morning. When the sun rose, it only shined brighter on the two. Picking up the strawberry highlights in Dean’s hair, the golden glint of a cross around Cas’ neck. 

And still they clung together, not giving a singular damn what the rest of the world thinks. Because they had each other, and that was more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> Homophobia
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment or kudo if you enjoyed!


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